


Family Discoveries

by AdaVila



Series: Family Affairs of the Russian Tigers [28]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Depression, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaVila/pseuds/AdaVila
Summary: Victor has a collection. A collection he was never going to show anyone,especiallyYuuri.





	Family Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there, I know exactly how long ago was my last update... Please don't kill me.
> 
> There's no need to read the whole series to understand this part but my regular readers, don't worry, it's related, I swear. Just remember that part in my last update where Yuuri says Victor went to his parents house.

When Yuuri catches it the first time, months ago, it comes from Viktor himself. Yuuri doesn’t realize what he’s meant _exactly_ but it feels a bit off and different from all the other times Viktor has said Yuuri’s the light of his life or that he’s the reason Viktor’s on this earth.

Maybe it’s because Viktor thinks Yuuri’s asleep already on their flight home and it’s a barely there whisper, making Yuuri wonder how many times Viktor’s whispered the same thing into his hair after he’s fallen asleep, in a voice that makes Yuuri want to cling to Viktor as strongly as possible and never let him go, make him understand he’s loved and wanted through touch alone.

He does just that, pulling Viktor closer with the arms he has around his waist and the leg he’s draped over Viktor’s lap. He thinks he can feel Viktor tense up for a moment but Yuuri’s too sleepy to fully realize it’s because Viktor hadn’t wanted Yuuri to actually hear what he’s said.

The second time comes from Ada and Chris. Yuuri and Viktor are out with friends, it’s late and it’s not even the alcohol causing weird conversations but simply the lateness of the night and the shared tiredness. Yuuri curses at himself when he realises he hadn’t really been listening to the deep™ conversation someone had started when Viktor laughs besides him, that tense and chilling Viktor-Nikiforov-pre-Katsuki-Yuuri-competition-laugh.

Before Yuuri even gets the chance to ask what the conversation’s been about, Ada tells him it’s not funny in a cold tone and with an even colder expression. Neither of those had surprised Yuuri but Ada’s eyes had. The look she gave Viktor before unceremoniously standing up and walking out without even trying to hide the pack of cigarettes in her hand made Yuuri scared to ask what Viktor had laughed about. It looked like Ada wanted to cry as she left the table, everyone’s eyes following her out.

The way Chris had looked at Viktor after the door of the bar had shut and said something in French made everyone look at each other with raised brows before Chris had said some Chris like joke that made it painfully obvious the topic needs to be changed.

The third time doesn’t really come from anyone’s mouth. It’s from photo albums Viktor’s parents give them that have Viktor’s childhood pictures.

Amongst fancy looking, very Nikiforov family like photo albums with high quality pictured even though they’re from the late eighties and early nineties Yuuri finds a small, pocket-sized almost, cheap album with Polaroid pictures filling it cover to cover.

It’s of high places, the kind that Yuuri knows Viktor hates. It starts with bridges, the highest ones in Saint Petersburg and Yuuri thinks he recognises some of them because when Viktor’s feeling _weird_ and they cross one of them he gets this detached expression on his face that makes Yuuri’s heart sink because he _knows_ that look so he just grasp Viktor’s hand tighter, daring, since it’s Russia they’re in, and tells him he’s _here_.

The bridges change into buildings, more correctly ledges of their roofs and Yuuri feels hot water stain his cheeks when it’s not just pictures of the view down but there’s also toes of someone’s shoes and silver hair being blown into the shot by the wind as the person taking the photo looks down, the ledge getting higher and higher each time he turns a page and the feet move closer, so close to where the ledge ends and it just...

Drops.

It’s frightening really. Yuuri feels like screaming because he knew this was a thing. He knew Viktor felt like he was on the edge, ready to fall but he never thought it was something Viktor _physically_ did. He’s terrified.

When he finds a spot where the pages have been ripped out he wonders what pictures Viktor wanted away from this messed up collection but he forgets about it when he turns another page.

The distance to the ground has grown rapidly. It’s no longer the four to six storey buildings in the city centre but the ones away from the busy streets, the one with ten and twelve storeys, the ones that are not completed yet in these shots or already abandoned.

Yuuri thinks one of the last buildings might be the one he’s seen on the outskirt of the city, standing at fifteen storeys high, abandoned and ghostly but not as ghostly as it seems in the picture, toes of young Viktor’s shoes nearing the ledge as the pavement looks wet from rain all that way down and silver strands that are blown in the shot again look drenched.

For some reason Yuuri’s sobs worsen when he sees the last picture in the small album. It’s a small bundle of brown, curly fluff with a bow around its neck and the rest of the pages are ripped out of the album and Yuuri thinks they’ve been ripped out blank, to make sure there was no more place to put those shots.

No more room to capture the sadness and keep it close.

He knows, through, that it hadn’t worked, that Viktor still felt like that as he grew older and Yuuri tries to not wonder too much about what could have happened if Viktor wasn’t stronger than he himself thinks he is.

When Viktor gets home that evening he finds a mess of snot and tears supposed to be his Yuuri wrapped around Makkachin on the floor and murmuring something in his fur.

Viktor’s pulled to the ground unceremoniously before Yuuri clings to him with all fours.

“Talk to me, please, please, always talk to me, always, tell me everything, everything you’re feeling, I love you so, so much, Vitya, my Vitya, my precious Vicchan.” Yuuri mumbles into the jacket Viktor hadn’t had time to take off and he’s sure he’s used all of the languages he knows, just to make sure Viktor hears him in at least one of them.

Viktor opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong in about the same moment his eyes land on the coffee table, scanning the albums scattered on it and sees that one small album.

 _The_ album.

The same one his mother found and told him to rip out the rest of the pages after he’d glued in Makkachin’s picture and they’ve sobbed together.

So he doesn’t say anything, just nods and pulls Yuuri closer, silently crying into Yuuri’s hair.

 _His_ Yuuri.

The one that _loves_ _him_. The one that completes him and who’s _never_ going to leave him.

So he cries and promises Yuuri everything. Promises him the world and more.

Promises to _live_ for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so thankful for every single person who reads this. I miss you guys, I wish I could update regularly all the time but it's been getting harder and harder and I feel really bad about it. **Highfunctioningbookaholic** has tried to help but it's not like she can do much about the writers block from the other end of the world XD  
>  Comments are always welcome and very very appreciated as are Kudos. Thank you, guys! <3


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